Locket
by Leftywrite
Summary: There aren't enough fluff stories for Sherlock...at least, there are, but i really wanted something else besides slash for the famed detective. This features a very pretty, azn, kung-fu, escape artist who...might be Sherlock's soulmate. ficlet. OOC SH
1. lost a locket, found a kung fu artist

Disclaimer: I don't own Sexy Sherlock Holmes. Sorry. If I did, I would either be dreaming up PUBLISHED romances of him (I mean, this is published, but not book Published, ya know?) and I would also get a movie with Alan Rickman starring as Sherlock.  
  
And I would talk to Laurie R. King 'bout the Russel stories and get to be a star as Mary Russel and Alan Rickman as Sherlock Holmes (isn't the snogging scene in the second book DELICIOUS????)....ah, well, enjoy the fic.  
  
~Fic Starts Here~  
  
Sherlock Holmes arrived upon a scene that caused him great amazement.  
  
A small, lithe character, dressed all in black, was climbing up the wall and slipping into the second story window of the house he was watching.  
  
It wasn't the intruder he was amazed about-oh no, he had been expecting that. But an intruder with long, shiny, black hair and an hourglass silhouette?  
  
Not on your life.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Watson!" he hissed, "there's our burglar!"  
  
Sherlock smiled in irony when he saw Watson's expression. "Yes, it's a woman. Or perhaps, a girl, judging from her size." The great detective motioned to thre 3 police officers with the famous duo, and pointed to the climbing f igure. They nodded, and with PC efficiency, headed to the door, pistols raised and handcuffs handy (an: pun intended. Sorry), rushing through the door and up the stairs to the second level.  
  
Sherlock Holmes, sighing at their clumsy ineptitude, quickly followed him, Watson at his heels.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Step away from the safe!"  
  
"Hands on your head!"  
  
"And look smart about it!"  
  
Holmes nearly gagged at the crimes scene clichés. He had yet to meet an officer who didn't use them.  
  
He watched as a small, slim, Asian female, dressed all in black and wearing the locket she stole from the safe turned around and calmly allowed the PCs to handcuff her.  
  
Holmes eyed the woman warily.  
  
Something wasn't right here.  
  
Damn right it wasn't.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She inspected her captors, calming berating them in her mind. What FOOLS. Did they thing a woman who could climb walls and crack safes be caught by mere handcuffs?  
  
Hell no.  
  
She twisted her wrist slightly, allowing her hidden wrist knife to drop into her left palm. She quietly flicked it open and used the point to unlock one of the cuffs. It left one dangling, but that would be useful if it (and it almost certainly would) came to fighting.  
  
"OY! You, come along then!"  
  
She just stood there, waiting for him to come over.  
  
  
  
The over-zealous policeman walked over and tried pulling at her left arm to get her to walk.  
  
BAD move.  
  
She instantly whirled to the left and knocked him out with the dangling end of the handcuffs.  
  
Hearing the thud of their fallen comrade, the other two officers simultaneously ran at her from both sides.  
  
ANOTHER bad move.  
  
She leapt up in the air, dong the splits and whirled around, knocking out first the one on the right, then the one of the left. She fell on her hand, using her momentum to turn her fall into a roll, and landed at the feet of Watson. Seeing him reach for his gun, she immediately lashed out one foot, knocked him down, made sure he was unconscious, and promptly got tacked by Holmes.  
  
OK. So that was a good move.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She landed on her back with him in her face. She was struggling to get control, but Holmes was 6 feet tall, and she was barely 5'1 (an: did I get SH's height right?). He grabbed both her wrists and smacked them painfully together, as he slammed them onto the floor above her head and tore her knife away. He threw the dagger to the side, where it promptly de- winged a statuette of a fat pixie.  
  
"Never did like fairies," he muttered (an: there's a hidden joke there for all you Mary Russel fans!)  
  
He promptly resumed his attempt to imprison and demobilize a woman nearly a foot shorter than him.  
  
Why the bloody HELL was it taking so long?  
  
He glanced at the locket around her neck and hissed, "Why ARE you wearing that?"  
  
"It's...MINE!" She gasped.  
  
"No it's not! It belongs to a rich, Chinese diplomat's daughter! OOF!"  
  
The last was because she kneed him in a VERY sensitive place as she threw him over to the side and straddled him, before he could get up.  
  
"Well," she said, blowing a stray piece of sweaty hair out of her eyes, panting, "Who do you THINK I am?" 


	2. pipe tobacco, red wine, and aprodesiacs

Disclaimer: I don't own the sexiest detective ever dreamed up. I'm really envious of Conan Doyle, but we won't go there.  
  
AN: LoL thanks Es! Alan Rickman plays Snape in the Harry Potter movies, and he was also Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility. He was also the Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves. As for the Laurie R. King books, they are available at any library (usually) or Barnes and Noble, Walden Books, or Borders. And those are the ones that I know of.  
  
That being said...  
  
~Fic Starts Here~  
  
Holmes just looked at her, dumbstruck.  
  
"YOU'RE Mei Lian Tang?"  
  
She shifted uncomfortably on his chest.  
  
"Um, yes. Unfortunately."  
  
He cocked one eyebrow. "Unfortunately?"  
  
She made a face before replying. "Well, how would you feel if you were forced into acting like a porcelain doll, down to your very NAME?"  
  
Holmes chuckled as he placed his hands under his head. She obviously wasn't going to let him go anywhere, so might as well get comfortable.  
  
"I sincerely doubt, Miss Tang, that I would be named 'Beautiful Water lily'"  
  
She stared at him. "You speak Chinese?"  
  
"It tien tien" (an: I really suck at pinyin, but that should mean a little in Mandarin)  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Surprised?"  
  
"Not really. It's the type of thing I would expect from Sherlock Holmes."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He eyed her, curious, yet slightly flabbergasted.  
  
"How do you know my name?"  
  
"No other man, 6 feet tall, smelling of pipe tobacco and having such sensibility goes around London with the police at 5:00 in the morning."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"-And besides, I heard you call Watson, Watson."  
  
"Oh? When?"  
  
"Uhm, now?"  
  
He grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her face dangerously close to his.  
  
"Are you GUESSING, girl?"  
  
"Maybe. In a very educated sort of way."  
  
"I DISPISE guessers. They annoy me with their lack of brain action." He could smell her perfume now, mingling with the slight bit of sweat that she had worked up. It was jasmine mixed with ylang-ylang and vanilla.  
  
Good Lord. The girl was a walking aphrodisiac.  
  
"I know. Why else do you think I was guessing?" She could smell and feel him through her clothes. He smelled so distinguished. Pipe tobacco and red wine. And he felt so warm, she felt icy in comparison. And then, she realized WHERE she was straddling and WHY it felt so warm. Her whole face reddened.  
  
Before Holmes had a chance to ask her about it, Watson regained his consciousness and summed up their position in 3 disoriented words.  
  
"Oh, I say."  
  
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AN: Thank you for reading this. Please review me. Thank you Es for actually reviewing, but please, PLEASE review me.  
  
Thank you for enduring that great big bit of begging...  
  
~LW 


	3. Sandwiched between tastes

Disclaimer: I really don't own Sherlock Holmes. I just like to play with him ;p  
  
AN: Thank you for all the wonderful people who have been reviewing me! Es, yes, you are insatiable. But I'm pretty sure it's a good thing in this case. Lady Arianna, thanxs. I know Holmes is OOC, but in this fic, that's the way I want him. Shadowfeysun, yeah, I know Sherlock's a kung fu person. Just thought he ought to be beaten...by a girl for once. Irene Adler was NOT enough. H, thank you very much! Glad someone likes staying up as late as I do ;p that huge AN being done with...  
  
~Fic Starts Here~  
  
Many bad-sounding explanations and crimson blushes later, Holmes and Watson agreed to take Mei Lian back with them in their motorcar. Or rather, Watson agreed and Holmes was struck by apoplectic shock that rendered him speechless.  
  
This girl was going to be allowed in a motorcar with them?  
  
After the destruction she caused?  
  
"Good Lord, Watson," he hissed, when he finally got his voice back, "They'll be picking up our remains in a matchbox!"  
  
Mei just smirked.  
  
What an inaccurate description.  
  
If she had her way, the remains would be too small to fit into a matchbox.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They arrived at the police station, uncomfortable enough so that they didn't talk, but not so uncomfortable that Sherlock was able to send many powerful glares in Mei's direction.  
  
She deflected them with a world-class smirk.  
  
Silly Sherlock. Glares are for kids.  
  
Not pretty kung fu artists.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They telephoned her father, who, being the important diplomat that he was, hadn't even noticed she was gone.  
  
In fact, Mei Lian had doubts her father even knew she existed.  
  
Other than a useful, political pawn that is.  
  
Which reminded her.  
  
Oh Dear Lord.  
  
She was being presented at a ball in two days.  
  
Oh. NO.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Would wonders never cease. Her father, Christopher Tang (who changed his name to something more western...but had forgotten about that with Mei) was actually here, in person, to pick her up. Probably so he could humiliate her publicly.  
  
"What possessed you to go and break into a building in the middle of the night, like a common burglar?" he hissed for all to hear, "first you lose a locket that has been in this family for centuries, then, AFTER I put some professionals on the case, you go and ACT LIKE A BOY and steal it back!"  
  
Yup. Public humiliation. And she had a feeling she had disgraced someone here or there...  
  
"And to top it all off, you go and seriously injure the professionals I hired! Do you know how bad this makes me look? You have disgraced the family name, MY name!..."  
  
Mei sighed. This was getting a tad too predictable. All she needed now was the look-  
  
She chanced a glance at her father.  
  
If she was wax, she would be a puddle on the floor right now.  
  
Yup, that was the look.  
  
Suddenly, he turned to the detective duo.  
  
"Thank you for bringing my daughter back. I'm sure she was not worth the trouble she caused you," he paused, letting his gaze flicker over Sherlock's scratches and Watson's head bruises, "and I beg you to forgive me and not hold grudge. How may I thank you? Money seems inadequate . I will still pay you, of course," he added hastily, seeing their troubled looks, "but is there anything else I can do?"  
  
Mei almost rolled her eyes. Her father was a world-class groveler. she thought.  
  
"well, er, ah..." mumbled Holmes, put on the spot. What was he supposed to ask for?  
  
Caviar?  
  
"tell you what. I'll invite you to a ball I'm having, two nights from now. You should find enough clientele to last you at least two years. What do you say?"  
  
No, not Caviar, then.  
  
"I accept."  
  
"the ball is in honor of my daughter's 20th birthday," he said, giving Mei Lian's shoulders a squeeze of fake affection, "But please, no presents."  
  
Mei's cheeks burned in embarrassment. He just as good as said that this was her coming out party.  
  
And, by god, the only males expected at a coming out ball were suitors or relatives.  
  
And she certainly wasn't related to Holmes.  
  
Oh. GOD.  
  
She cautiously met his gaze and knew he had just realized the same thing.  
  
She was in her worst mess yet.  
  
All over a stupid locket.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The ride home was silent. Mei's father had already lectured her. There was nothing more to say. Which was good, because she had other things to think about.  
  
....The warm heat of his body when she had straddled him. The power and strength of his muscles as he tore her knife away. The slight sheen of sweat over his forehead as he held her to the floor, his body over hers, hair in his eyes, his voice in her ear....  
  
She felt her cheeks heat up with pinkness.  
  
Good Lord. It had sounded as if...  
  
No. She couldn't think about that.  
  
She was a political pawn. Who she was going to be romantically involved with was not her choice.  
  
It was her father's.  
  
Whoa. Wait. Since when did she want to be romantically involved with Sherlock Holmes?  
  
He had just caused her public humiliation.  
  
But those eyes...  
  
She groaned ash she buried her head in her arms.  
  
Stupid, stupid, STUPID.  
  
She was sandwiched between two feelings.  
  
Except it wasn't herself she wanted to taste.  
  
It was Holmes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
AN: sorry 'bout that last bit there, couldn't resist.  
  
Oh, PLEASE review me! 


	4. Coming to Terms

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. I wish I did, but I don't. If I did, I would be convincing Alan Rickman to be Sherlock, not listening to the Original Score of the Phantom of the Opera (MASQUERAAAAAAAAAAAADE!) and typing out this fic. And I would convince Laurie R. King to let me be Mary Russel.  
  
AN: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! I know this fic is very strange, with Sherlock's OOC behavior...but I promise you'll like this chapter (read: there's snogging)...  
  
~Fic Starts Here~  
  
The next two days were a furry of activity for both parties.  
  
Mei spent hers getting (against her will) prettied up to the degree of knocking her hairdresser unconscious via hairbrush.  
  
No pearls in HER hair, thank you.  
  
Sherlock had a much more difficult task.  
  
Getting a tuxedo for a coming out ball without looking like he was a suitor.  
  
After walking out of the tenth tailor who had snickered, he wondered if it was worth it.  
  
The clientele, yes.  
  
And then he remembered...  
  
The way her dark hair swirled around her body as she fought...  
  
The long, graceful power of her legs...  
  
The rapidity of her mind...  
  
The way he had felt when she had straddled him...  
  
Holmes stopped abruptly in the streets, nearly getting run over by a cab.  
  
No.  
  
He was NOT going to think anymore of this nonsense. He was NOT falling for a sarcastic chit who had literally beaten him to the ground.  
  
Then sat on him.  
  
That was the part he was having trouble with.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There was no way she could face him.  
  
Not like this.  
  
With a fencing foil, yes.  
  
With a throwing knife, yes.  
  
But with a one-strapped, floor length, nearly backless, wine-colored silk dress, hair up, eye makeup rouge, and painted fingernails?  
  
Hell no.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He hated tuxedoes, he really did.  
  
They made him feel as thought he should act suave, debonair, and woman stealing.  
  
Enough said.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mei was so nervous, she nearly tripped.  
  
Nearly.  
  
"Announcing Miss Mei Lian Tang."  
  
Oh, god. That was their cue to stare at her. She anxiously scanned the crowd for him.  
  
There.  
  
Was he staring at her in the right way?  
  
The way she secretly wanted him to?  
  
She eyed him in a seemingly cool manner as she descended the steps down the stairs to the ballroom floor, jewels sparkling, head held high.  
  
Inside, she was staring in awe at the sight before her.  
  
His hair was swept back in a...there was no other word for it...suave way that had her shivering. He was perfect in his tuxedo...gentlemanly, debonair, but not overpowering with s.a., his eyes held hers, reflecting her cool manner...and...WANT?  
  
Could he be as exited inside as she was?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Yes he was.  
  
It took all his acting skills to conceal his amazement.  
  
Wine silk. The color set of her skin tone in a way that made him want to brush his fingertips against its buttery smoothness.  
  
And he could seem much of that buttery smoothness.  
  
Her hair was up. He could see the graceful curve of her neck.  
  
The same curve that was echoing throughout her entire figure.  
  
A figure that would put a cubist to despair.  
  
Her eyes were cool, and yet, he felt that he could brush against the fire of her soul.  
  
Good Lord.  
  
She was beautiful.  
  
Beautiful Water Lily.  
  
HIS beautiful Water Lily.  
  
Words did not do her justice.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Holmes would be her first to approach.  
  
At least she KNEW him.  
  
And he wasn't leering perversely at her.  
  
Not that she didn't want him to.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Hullo, Holmes."  
  
He almost jumped at her voice. Purringly seductive, it sent a jolting shiver down his spine. It was like warm honey.  
  
Sweet and golden.  
  
"Miss Tang." He brought her delicate hand to his lips. Buttery smoothness.  
  
She shivered. His voice was dark, deep velvet, brushing against her in exactly the right way.  
  
Just like his lips.  
  
She chanced a glance at his hands.  
  
Beautiful.  
  
And then the music started.  
  
A smile twitched upon his lips.  
  
"May I have this dance?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She didn't know how she survived being so close to him and dancing at the same time, but she did.  
  
It was harder dancing with him and dancing with bumbling fools like the Duke of Gloucester.  
  
She excused herself from him, and went over to the champagne table...  
  
And Holmes.  
  
"Having fun?" she asked, helping herself to a glass of bubbly delight.  
  
"I could ask the same of you. How is the Duke of Gloucester?"  
  
"I supposed he's fine, but other than that, all I know is that he appears in King Lear."  
  
"your conversation seems..."  
  
"Fruitless, boring, and I remain unconvinced that I could marry him."  
  
Her? Marry the Duke of Gloucester?  
  
No. She couldn't.  
  
Then it dawned on him. He was the only unrelated male in the room who could not marry the beautiful woman before him.  
  
The woman he loved.  
  
"Ah...indeed. Excuse me."  
  
She watched him speechless, as he left her.  
  
No.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She left early. There was no point. With Holmes gone, she had no one to have an intelligent conversation with.  
  
She wnet upstairs, took her hair down, her dress off, and her red silk robe on.  
  
She sat at her vanity table as she prepared to take her makeup off and...  
  
Someone knocked at her door.  
  
"Com in!" she called, impatiently, expecting her maid, a dress and a hairdo too late.  
  
The sight in her mirror had her gaping, open mouthed.  
  
"Holmes!"  
  
She jumped out of her chair and turned to face him.  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"I merely followed the scent of your perfume. It is very prominent. In fact," he said, cocking one eyebrow, "One might call it a hot scent." (an: that was for aiyah!!! HIDDEN JOKE!"  
  
She blushed. "Oh."  
  
"I thought you'd might like your birthday present in private." He held out a small box.  
  
"O-oh." She mumbled as she took it and opened it gently. "OH!" She laughed delightedly. It was a small, golden, heart-shaped locket on the finest chain she had ever seen.  
  
"Yes. I'm quite fond of poetic justice." He replied, "Here, turn around."  
  
She obeyed as he draped the necklace over her.  
  
Mei shivered, as his fingers seemed to linger over the naked curve of the back of her neck.  
  
"Open it."  
  
She flicked it open and gasped in surprise as a folding lock pick fell out.  
  
"Thought it might be useful."  
  
She turned around and grinned. "Thank you."  
  
It was his turn to stare. She was a Venus de Milo.  
  
And that locket wasn't the only heart she had in her possession.  
  
He drew in a sharp breath as he restrained himself from trailing his lips across her face and that gorgeous neck.  
  
"Y-you're quite welcome." He turned to leave, quickly, before he lost control of himself.  
  
"R-right."  
  
He turned around, concerned by her disappointed tone. "is something amiss?"  
  
She leaned against the post of her bed, trying not to cry. "O-oh no, Holmes. I-I...I, well, just for a second there, I thought that you were going to kiss me. Silly, eh?" she said shakily, a shivery smile on her lips.  
  
He looked at her strangely.  
  
"No, not really."  
  
He crossed the room quickly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his body, as his mouth devoured hers. This time, there was no restraint.  
  
"Oh," she whispered, as his mouth trailed down her neck and then up to the little soft spot under her ear, tongue tracing little curves across her skin.  
  
"Oh, Holmes, you didn't need the lock pick to open up my heart."  
  
He drew away to face her. "Oh?"  
  
"It was already open for you."  
  
Any other conversation beyond that was quite impossible, as Holmes's mouth seemed magnetically attracted to Mei's skin.  
  
"My beautiful water lily," he murmured. "My Mei Lian...  
  
Wo ai ni."  
  
~~~end~~~  
  
AN: there IS going to be an epilogue.  
  
And that Chinese at the end is Mandarin for "I Love You."  
  
Heehee...REVIEW ME!  
  
Ooh...that rhymed... 


	5. A Very Snoggalicious Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes. If I did, there would be much, MUCH more of Irene Adler, and much less of this misogynistic nonsense. OF COURSE he likes women. When a guy's that sexy, how could he not? ;p  
  
~Fic Starts Here~  
  
"Come on, Tang! We need to check if the guards-"  
  
"-Who are very much unconscious at the moment, Holmes."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You see, dear, it was a very simple procedure of using the lock pick you gave me, breaking in, knocking the guards out with their own batons, sneaking out of the window with what we came for, and locking the door behind me," Mei replied, holding up a bundle of legal papers. "You see, that lock pick works magnificently well."  
  
He scowled at her. "You should have at least let me do SOME of the work."  
  
"I did. You stayed watch."  
  
"You said you were getting the equipment."  
  
"I was. But the window was so inviting..."  
  
Holmes leaned over her, hands on her waist, mouth nibbling on her ear...  
  
"I believe, Tang, that you just did that to save time for THIS."  
  
And he was absolutely right.  
  
~~~The real, absolute end~~~  
  
AN: :) hope you enjoyed! Please review! Just thought you shouldn't be without that final little scene...  
  
~LW 


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